


It's All in the Stare

by xRabbitx



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, just these two morons fucking around basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8652838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRabbitx/pseuds/xRabbitx
Summary: Junkrat won't stop staring at Roadhog, and Roadhog is about to lose his shit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is the first time writing these two for me, and I hope y'all like it! It was written real fast, so plz forgive any typos. I'll correct them as I find them. 
> 
> Anyway, none of these boys are mine. I'm just fucking around with them.

*

 

Rat makes Mako uncomfortable. Rat makes Mako uncomfortable to a point where Mako is actually shifting his weight and sometimes even squirming and considering leaving Rat's general vicinity. Yeah, Rat makes Mako real uncomfortable, but it's not because of the obsessive love of explosions, the missing digits and limbs, the maniacal grimace Rat makes when he's excited, or the way Rat's hips and spine jut out from his skinny body.

          Rat makes Mako uncomfortable because the little shit won't stop staring at him. Whenever Rat thinks Mako isn't looking, Rat stares at him. Mako knows this, because he always fucking knows when he's being watched, and he's caught Rat red-handed a couple of times, too. They work well together—in fact, they're a god damn force of nature together—but the staring is really starting to get on Mako's nerves. Rat has done it since the first time they laid eyes on each other, and Mako had thought it would eventually disappear. Most people stare the first time they see a man like Mako, but they eventually get used to him. Rat doesn't seem to do so, though, and Mako is closing in on that state where he's going to insist on administering the beating of a lifetime if he catches Rat staring at him one more time. Rat may be paying him to stick around and play bodyguard, but he sure as hell isn't paying Mako to be stared at all day like a fucking circus animal.

          They're squatting in an abandoned factory in the wake of their latest heist. The two duffle bags of jewels are going to pay for the next months' food and fuel, but it's going to be a while before they can hawk them. All they can do for now is lay low and live off the canned food Mako was clever enough to snatch when they (read: Rat) accidentally blew up a supermarket last month. The food is disgusting, but it's good enough to keep them alive while they wait for things to cool down a bit. Yeah, it's not lack of food that's going to kill them; it's boredom. Mako is doing alright, re-reading his wrecked copy of _Ulysses_ for the nth time. Rat is a different matter, though. The little guy isn't used to doing nothing, and Mako has watched him get increasingly restless, although Mako wouldn't have thought that Rat could actually get more restless than he usually is. Rat is okay on the first day, spending his time counting and re-counting their booty and sorting it into categories; necklaces, rings, and miscellaneous ("Hog, how much do ya think we'll get fer 27 gold rings?" Mako just grunts in reply). On the second day, Rat empties the ink out of 13 pens (who the fuck hoards pens?) and spends the rest of the day tattooing his flesh arm and leg with an old needle. Rat is visibly proud when he shows Mako the result—33 happy smileys—and Mako acknowledges it with a grunt. It's on the third day that Rat starts to lose it. Mako returns to the room they're squatting in from a little reconnaissance trip in the area to find Rat crawling around on the floor and laying out bits of the last loaf of stale bread they have.

          "What're you doing?" Mako asks, already feeling pretty exasperated and not entirely sure he even wants to know.

          "The way I see it," Rat explains without looking up from what he's doing, "we're prolly gonna be here for a while, right? So I'm buildin' a rat trap so those little cunts don't eat our food."

          "Our food is canned, numbskull," Mako grunts and walks over to sit down in the old office chair he's found in what used to be a manager's office. "Rats can't open cans."

          Rat doesn't seem to hear him, and he just continues his idiotic task, and he doesn't stop until the sun has set outside and it's too dark for him to continue. Their only source of light is a single flashlight with increasingly dead batteries, and Mako is using it to read.

          "There!" Rat says triumphantly and pushes to his feet (foot and peg). "Come see, Hog."

          "No," Mako grunts without looking up from his book. He's not in the mood for any of Rat's fuckery.

          "Oh, come on, ya big ass," Rat whines and scurries over to Mako to grab his arm and tug at it. Rat might as well have been trying to drag a combat tank.

          "Go away," Mako hums, shaking Rat off so vigorously that Rat stumbles backwards and lands on his ass with a thud.

          "Dick," Rat grumbles and goes to sit down on the moldy, old mattress that he's been sleeping on. He starts fiddling with something, but Mako doesn't care what it is as long as Rat leaves him alone. It seems like it's actually happening until some moments later when Mako feels a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. And there it fucking is. Rat is staring at him again, Mako just knows it. He can tell from the lack of noise that Rat has stopped fiddling with whatever he'd been fiddling with, and now that little shit is staring at him again. Mako's fingers curl slightly into the book, but he takes a deep, deep breath, trying to ignore it. He really doesn't want to have to get up and kick Rat's ass. But it doesn't stop, and when Mako glances out the corner of his eye and sees that Rat is indeed ogling him, he loses it.

          "Stop fucking staring at me!" he booms, and he's on his feet a lot quicker than a guy his size should be able to move. Rat doesn't even have time to scamper back before Mako has grabbed him by the front of his ripped wifebeater and slammed him up against the nearest wall. Rat grunts in pain while wriggling to get away.

          "What the fuck, Hog?!" Rat splutters, clawing at Mako's massive fist. Rat isn't small at all; he's actually pretty tall, and he's strong and fast enough to fend for himself most of the time. But compared to Mako, Rat is a spindly dwarf made of glass.

          "Your beady, little eyes," Mako growls, leaning closer as he tightens his grip in Rat's shirt, "have been staring at me since the day you hired me, and I'm losing my god damn mind."'

          Rat turns a little white under the soot that almost always covers his face. "I-I don't know what the fuck yer on about!"

          Mako snarls and leans closer, trapping Rat between the wall and his fist, which presses harder and heavier against Rat's chest. Rat coughs and gasps, digging his nails into Mako's arm until the skin breaks. That doesn't stop Mako, though, and he could easily keep going until his fist turns Rat's ribcage into splinters.

          "Wait, wait, wait, wait!" Rat rasps. "Okay, shit! Okay! I'll stop! I'm sorry! Uncle! Uncle! Fuckin' uncle!"

          Mako narrows his eyes and considers his struggling and increasingly blue-in-the-face boss. He then decides that Rat has probably learned his lesson now, so he releases him. Rat slides down the wall and lands on the filthy concrete floor with a crash. He curls up and coughs so hard that Mako _almost_ feels a teeny, tiny, miniscule pang of guilt, but only almost. He grunts and turns away to go back to his office chair.

          "The fuck's yer problem?" Rat bites between raspy coughs, still curled up on the floor. "Most—most people like bein' looked at."

          "Don't know what kind of fucked up people you've been hanging out with," Mako huffs, turning to face Rat, who has managed to sit up. "No one likes being treated like a circus animal."

          "Circus?" Rat's eyebrows travel up his smudged forehead. The coughing fit has left streaks of tears down his dirty cheeks. "You think I'm thinkin' yer a circus animal?"

          Mako's smoldering rage fades a bit. "Yes," he says, frowning and scratching the stubble on his cheek. "What else was I supposed to think?"

          "Well…" Rat says and gestures like it's obvious why he was looking at Mako. Mako doesn't get it. Rat snarls and turns pinker than Mako has ever seen him before.

          "Don't tell me ya ain't getting' it. Yer just bein' a dick now," Rat huffs, visibly frustrated.

          Mako just shrugs.

          "Forget it," Rat spits and makes to get up, but Mako isn't having it. He takes a step closer and growls, "Tell me now, or I'll give you more than a cough."

          "Fine!" Rat groans, jumps up, and stalks over to Mako to punch him in the chest (Mako doesn't even flinch). "Yer fuckin' gorgeous, okay, you fuckin' prick! How the fuck am I supposed to not look when yer walkin' 'round lookin' like _that_?" He gestures in Mako's general direction.

          Of all the reasons Mako had imagined Rat would give, this was not one Mako in his wildest fantasies could have thought of, and for a moment he's completely and utterly stunned.

          "What?"

          "Don't ya fuckin' 'what' me, dickhead!" Rat growls. "Look at ya! Look at those pecs, those biceps, that _gut_! Do ya even have the faintest fuckin' idea how hard it is to concentrate on anythin' when yer around?" While he's rambling, Rat's hands are dancing all over Mako's torso, touching every inch he can get to as if Mako's an god damn anatomy chart and Rat is a biology professor.

          Mako still doesn't get it. No one has ever, not in his entire life, talked to him like that. It's not like he has poor self-esteem; he used to worry about these things, back when he was a teenager in his previous life, but a string of bad experiences and many, many brutal years, has made him not care about whether or not other people find him attractive, because they don't. He just stares down at Rat, trying to figure out if he's yanking his chain.

          "Seriously?" Rat stops his groping spree and just cocks an eyebrow suspicious eyebrow up at Mako.

Mako huffs and shrugs and suddenly doesn't really know where to look. He has totally forgotten what it feels like to feel flustered.

          "Oh Hoggy, baby," Rat grins and licks his lips, "I'll show ya exactly what I'm thinkin' about when I'm oglin' ya." There's a look on his face that Mako usually only see when Rat is about to blow something up.

          "No," Mako grunts. "Go away." He plants a hand right in Rat's face and pushes him back. He turns away and goes back to his chair, and Rat protests, but he smart enough not to follow Mako. They spend the next couple of hours in silence (or at least as much silence it's possible to have with Rat in the room), and once they've both gobbled down a cold can of something that's supposed to be Beef Wellington but looks (and tastes) more like an old boot wrapped in a wet paper towel, they go to bed—well, Rat curls up on the mattress, and Mako leans back against the wall he's been sleeping up against the last few days. Falling asleep isn't usually a problem for him, but tonight there's too much noise in his head. It doesn't help that he has to listen to Rat jerk off a few hours into the night. Unlike the usual volume Rat operates at, this is hushed and quiet. If it weren't for the rapid breathing and the sound of the slightly squeaking springs of the old mattress, Mako might not have noticed anything at all. Mako doesn't move or even open his eyes (not that he would be able to see much in the darkness), but that doesn't stop his body from reacting in ways it hasn't reacted in years.

 

*[[ ಠ (∞) ಠ ]]*

 

It's like Mako has inadvertently yanked the power plug out of some filter that was inside Rat's head, because after that night, Rat is entirely and absolutely incapable to shutting up about Mako. It doesn't matter if they're alone or not; there's always a constant stream of "Fuck, look at that _bod_ ", "Hog, yer so strong!", and "I'd give my last arm for a piece of that hog meat." That last one especially is moronic, and Mako keeps telling himself that _this time_ he'll make Rat shut the fuck up. He even threatens to break Rat's jaw once or twice, but it doesn't help. And even though Mako knows there are ways to make Rat shut up, he never does it. He tries to excuse it with it being too much hassle, but he knows himself well enough to know hassle has nothing to do with it. He hates himself for it, but he actually kind of likes Rat's comments—even if he doesn't entirely believe that Rat would actually put his money where his mouth it if push came to shove—because honestly, who would like to have his own personal cheering squad, especially when said cheering squad is lean, limber, slightly off his rocker with an ass that won't quit. It's not that Mako hasn't noticed Rat's "attributes" before, but anything even remotely related to the sex department has been shut down for years. Apparently his brain has now decided to send it a scouting team with the purpose to re-opening that department, though, because Mako's body is starting to respond in ways that he thought it had forgotten. It doesn't help either that Rat has started jerking off every single night, and he's apparently caring less and less about Mako hearing him, because he hardly gives Mako a chance to fall asleep first. The last couple of days, Mako's body's responses have been so intense that he's been tempted to "return the favor" so to speak, but he hasn't done anything to lie/sit motionless in the dark and listen to Rat's labored breathing.

            It's not until a particular moronic heist goes awry that something happens. Rat has gotten the bright idea of robbing a bank by blowing a hole in the wall in the convenience story right next to it. The wall should lead them straight into the bank's vault, and they'd be in and out before anyone would know what's up. The idea is good on paper, but of course Rat forgets to research one vital part, and it's not until they're standing there in the convenience store in the middle of the night that Rat realizes that the wall is made of 20 inch thick steel. Not even Rat could get through that, and he spits and curses as the sound of sirens approaches in the distance. In lieu of what would have been a spectacular booty, the two of them just grab whatever they can carry from the store, and they end up getting away with five bottles of vodka and three of whiskey (shitty whiskey, of course).

            "Motherfuckin', shit eatin', son of a whore, horse cockin' wanker, fuckity fuckhead!" Rat explodes once they're back to their shithole of a hideout. He punches a steel door so hard with his metal fist that sparks fly, and he just stares at the small dent he's managed to make, breathing hard.

            "It's your own fault," Mako simply says as he plops down to on the floor.

            "I know," Rat mumbles, then leaves the door and goes to sit down next to Mako on the floor. He gestures. "Hand us a bottle, will ya?"

            Make grunts in reply and drags the bag of bottles across the floor and over to Rat. They've run out of food, so apparently tonight's dinner is going to be liquid. They open a bottle each and wordlessly clink them together before taking a gulp each. It tastes like shit, but it's better than nothing. Rat is still pouting about the failed heist, and he's actually for about half a bottle before he starts talking again. When he does, his cheeks are flushed, his voice a bit slurred, and he isn't talking about the heist.

            "Ya know," he says, a wide smirk spreading on his narrow lips, "you were bein' real handsome again today." He reaches out and traches a surprisingly cold metal finger over Mako's belly.

            Mako shivers a bit and pushes Rat's hand away.

            "Aww, don't be like that," Rat purrs and shifts closer. "I could show ya a real good time, Hoggy."

            "Stop it," Mako grunts even though his body is telling him that stopping would definitely be the opposite of a good idea.

            "You don't know what yer missin', mate," Rat hums, licking his lips. "I know for a fact yer ain't gettin' it somewhere else. Don't ya wanna get off?"

            Mako sighs, takes another gulp of whatever it is that he's drinking, and then says, "Alright, fine."

            "Alright?"

            "Yeah, do your best," Mako says and leans back a little, challenging Rat.

            Rat's face falls a little bit, and he suddenly looks uncertain, which doesn't surprise Mako at all.

            "R-really?" Rat asks, fiddling with his bottle.

            "I knew it," Mako grunts and gets up, taking his bottle with him. Rat is calling for him to stop and wait, but Mako doesn't. He pushes the door open and goes into the hot summer night. This place—wherever it is—is far enough away from everything that he doesn't worry about being spotted without his mask, and he lumbers away from the building and towards nothing in particular. Rat isn't following him, and for some reason that stings just as much as the uncertainty he saw in Rat's eyes before. He eventually finds a place to sit down behind an old chain-link fence. The skies are clear and the stars are bright, and the air is thick and humid, and it doesn't take very long before he's sticky all over. And shit, he should have brought another bottle, because this one is getting empty, but going back for another one would have to mean that he would have to 1) get up, and 2) face Rat, and he really isn't in the mood for that right now. So he just sits there, sipping the bottle until it's empty, watching the skies and trying not to feel too sorry for himself. He doesn't really blame Rat either. It's just that Mako had actually allowed himself to believe it just a little bit, but—as always—things turned out to be a disappointment, and what upsets Mako the most is that he thought he had learned his lesson long ago. Apparently not.

            Mako isn't sure how long he's been sleeping, but he wakes up with a grunt and a jerk. He's still sitting outside; the skies have gotten lighter, and there's a vague smear of purple of the horizon. He groans and gets up to go back to the hideout, lugging the empty bottle with him. He's still drunk, and he sways a bit as he enters the building, trying to be quiet so he won't wake Rat who's curled up on his mattress in the corner. Mako sighs and sits down in his usual spot against the wall, closing his eyes and tries to go back to sleep and not think about how possibly awkward tomorrow is going to be when Rat wakes up.

            He's beginning to doze off when he feels something moving in front of him, and he opens his eyes to see Rat in the semi-darkness. Rat is leaning over him, and before Mako can say anything, Rat closes the gap between their faces. Rat tastes like cheap whiskey and explosives.

            "What're you doing?" Mako grunts against Rat's lips, but he doesn't pull away.

            "Shut up," Rat whispers, which is usually Mako's line. He moves to sit down in Mako's lap, never once taking his lips off Mako's, and starts grinding down against him. Unlike anything Rat normally does, this is slow, slow and deliberate, and it doesn't take many minutes before Mako is straining against the zipper of his pants. It's been so incredibly long since he's felt like this, and he doesn't really know what to do with it. It's hard enough to believe this is actually happening, so he just sits there, letting Rat do all the work.

            "Knew ya'd be a big boy," Rat breathes in a giggle as he presses his ass down against Mako's trapped dick. Mako lets out a groan that sounds a lot more helpless than he's comfortable with, and to try and make up for it, he grabs Rat's ass to squeeze it. Rat lets out an appreciative moan but reaches down to grab Mako's wrists and moves his hands to his chest.

            "Touch me here," he whispers as he pulls back a little to fumble with Mako's belt. Mako does as he's told and rubs his thumbs over Rat's chest, sliding them over the pale scars below his nipples before rubbing over the nipples themselves.

            "Yeah, that's it, Hoggy," Rat gasps, still fiddling. "Suck on 'em."

            Again, Mako does what he's told—this is becoming a bad habit—and leans in to clasp his lips around one of Rat's nipple, biting and sucking at it until it's red and swollen. He then moves to give the other one the same treatment. Rat is arching and moaning and basically rutting up against his belly.

            "Shit," he hisses. "I can't get this shit open. Help me out here, mate."

            It's getting kind of old, but Mako obeys and reaches down to tug open his pants. His dick all but springs free, and Mako can't hold back a grunt of relief. It's jutting straight out from his body, thick, hard, and flushed an angry red, and Mako can't honestly remember the last time he's been this horny.

            "Well, fuck me, if that ain't a thing of beauty," Rat grins and sits back a bit to marvel at the swollen appendage like it's the eighth wonder of the world. It makes Mako feel strangely vulnerable and turned on at the same time, and because he has no idea what to do, he reaches down to grab it. Rat swats his hand away.

            "Ah-ah," he tuts. "Touchin' that is my job. You got another job to do."

            "What job?" Mako asks, his eyes following Rat as he pushes to his feet (foot and peg). In one swift maneuver, Rat yanks his belt off and lets it drop to the floor. His shorts follow soon after, and then Rat just stands there in all his naked splendor. And it really is splendor; it's being naked enhances the length of Rat's body, and Mako lets his stunned and pretty hungry gaze glide over every inch of it from Rat's sunburned belly and thighs to his pale crotch. The inside of Rat's thighs are already slick, and Mako can see the swollen T dick poke out between the equally swollen folds and the blonde pubic hair. Mako's cock jerks so hard it smacks up against the bottom of his belly, leaving a wet smear of precome on the tattooed skin.

            "Well?" Rat asks, hands on his hips.

            "Well what?" Mako looks up at him, feeling slightly out of breath.

            "Well, what do ya think?" Rat huffs.

            "I think that's pretty obvious," Mako says with an air of confidence that's purely made up, because he feels anything but confident right now. Rat clearly knows what he's doing, and Mako doesn't have a fucking clue.

            "Yer bein' pretty cocky for someone just sittin' there with his dick out," Rat huffs. "Best be focusin' on doing yer job."

            "You still haven't told me what that is," Mako reminds him.

            "Oh, right," Rat grins and steps closer. He plants on foot on Mako's shoulder and reaches down to grab him by the hair, tugging him close until Mako's face is inches from his crotch.

            "This is your job," Rat whispers before literally shoving his cunt into Mako's face.

            Mako is pretty taken aback for a moment when he finds himself suddenly surrounded by Rat's sex, but as if it's a knee-jerk reflex, Mako's tongue slides out of his mouth and drags over the labia, both inside and outside. The scent down here is intoxicating, and if Mako didn't know that he was already drunk, he could have sworn that Rat's musk alone with doing the job. He works his tongue in and out between the folds for a moment before moving up a bit to find Rat's dick.

            "Oh shit," Rat groans, tightening his grip in Mako's hair to the point where it's almost delightfully painful, and he starts grinding against Mako's tongue. "Yeah, that's it, baby. Keep goin'."

            Mako struggles to keep up, but he eventually just keeps his tongue flat and lets Rat move against it. That leaves him free to concentrate on running his hands up Rat's smooth thighs. Mako moves a hand between Rat's legs, grunting with satisfaction when he feels his own spit running down between them, and presses his thumb against Rat's opening. When he pushes inside Rat shudders around it, and Mako's dick jerks when he feels Rat's muscles contract around his finger.

            "St-stop!" Rat gasps, pulling away from Mako's tongue and finger. His face is flushed bright pink and his bottom lip is swollen, probably from biting it. "Lie down."

            For a fourth time tonight, Mako does what Rat tells him to without question. He pushes away from the wall and lies down. The concrete floor is cold against his naked back, sending a nice shiver through his body. Rat doesn't let him focus on that for too long, though, because he straddles Mako's lap, reaching back to steady Mako's dick before slowly easing down onto it. Mako all but completely loses it as Rat slides down around him, warm, wet, and tight. He hasn't been very vocal up until now, but that all changes as Rat rolls his hips and sends torrents of impossible pleasure surging through Mako's body. He lets out a rumbling moan and grabs Rat by the hips, urging him to go faster. For the first time tonight, Rat lets Mako set the pace, bracing himself against Mako's belly, and for another first time tonight, Rat hardly makes a sound. His eyes are closed as if deep in concentration, teeth biting his flushed bottom lip, and all that's escaping him are tiny, soft grunts as he moves. There's something incredibly prudent about the fact that the best way to shut Rat is up by fucking him, but Mako doesn't really have the mental capacity to think about that right now, because he's much too busy gazing up at Rat while helplessly moaning out his encouragement.

            The fact that Mako has lasted this long is a fucking miracle, but all good things must come to an end, and so must this. Mako feels how liquid heat is pooling somewhere behind his navel, and he digs his fingers into Rat's skinny hips.

            "Gonna come," he groans out, making Rat open his eyes. A smirk spreads on Rat's lips, and he starts moving faster, riding Mako's dick like he was bred to do nothing but that. With every upward jerk of his hips, Rat ruts up against Mako's gut. It feels so stupidly good, and Mako physically arches off the floor as his orgasm slams into him, hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. His dick swells inside Rat, throbbing and twitching and pumping him full of hot spurts of come. Rat doesn't seem to hardly even notice, because he keeps moving, thrusting back and forth on Mako's overly sensitive dick until it's almost too much. His breathing turns shallow, and he eventually breathes out, "Oh fuck, Hoggy, oh _fuck!_ " before coming with a visible shudder. Mako can feel Rat clench hard down around his cock, and if Mako hadn't just come, he is convinced that feeling alone would have made him come on the spot.

            They collapse almost simultaneously, both gasping for breath, and both sticky with sweat and various body fluids. Rat's head is on Mako's chest, rising and falling as he pants.

            "We're deffo doing that again," Rat mumbles rather weakly after a while in breathless silence. He lifts his head to look Mako in the eye. "Right?"

            "Mh," Mako grunts in reply and allows a tiny smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Rat seems satisfied with this, because he lays down his head again. Mako still has no idea what the hell just happened, and the floor is starting to get uncomfortable to lie on, but he doesn't dare move, worried that he'll break this strange magic that's settled between them. So he just lies there, trying to comprehend that a naked and thoroughly fucked Rat is falling asleep on top of him. To be honest, though; Mako's pretty fucked himself.

 

*


End file.
